


Dark Paradise

by insaneshadowfangirl



Series: Conquestfell [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AU Where Underfell Papyrus conquers other AUs, Alternate Ending, Alternate Ending to Something Entirely New, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, DAMMIT SORAAAAA, Dehumanization, Gen, It's all their fault~, King Papyrus, Psychological Torture, Sora is basically co-writing this, Stockholm, Stockholm Syndrome, This is basically Blueberry torture, This is considerably less happy than Something Entirely New, Torture, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Sans, Yaaaay, dammit Sora
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:59:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7815109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insaneshadowfangirl/pseuds/insaneshadowfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Papyrus only has to crush the miserable little rebels standing in his way before Underswap is completely under his control.</p><p>And Undyne's brought him just what he needs to do so; Their leader's little brother.</p><p>This would be fun.</p><p>Or: Alternate Ending to Something Entirely New, but it stands alone on its own. Pretty much just Blueberry being miserable, Fell Paps being a psycho, Red being a broken mess, and Papy being a badass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Will Defy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sora_Tayuya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sora_Tayuya/gifts).



> Okay, so my creative process for this story was:
> 
> Sora: ALTERNATE ENDING TO SOMETHING ENTIRELY NEW
> 
> Me: Wanna help me break Blueberry?
> 
> Sora: DO I!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go differently.

Sans leaned against the leg of Papyrus's throne, trying not to draw the attention of... well... anyone. But especially not his brother, his owner. He was especially testy these days, ever since Alphys found out how to break into this blasted parallel timeline and Boss had decided he wanted it for his own. Most of the weak little lumps of sugar belonging to this place had folded to the rule of the violent members of his own world, but not all of them...

 

Papyrus's perpetual bad mood probably had something to do with the resistance that had rather quickly formed to combat the soldiers and occupying forces sent from Sans's homeworld. Even some people from their own timeline had joined up.

 

Sans... Wasn't sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, he knew exactly how futile resisting his elder brother's will was; He had the scars and the brands and the collar to prove it. Even thinking about the thick, spiked-studded red leather constricting his cervical vertebrae made him absently reach up to clutch at it in a nervous habit. The king, sensing his anxiety, moved his hand off the armrest of his throne to stroke the top of Sans's skull in an affectionate manner. Sans leaned into the touch without a sound, shutting his eye sockets in pleasure.

 

Oh the other hand, he had to admire these rebels. The fact that they hadn't given in yet was... astounding. Even his own Underground had folded to Papyrus once he'd decided that he wanted to be King and killed Asgore and Toriel to achieve that. For all the sugar-sweetness this world seemed to offer, many of the monsters were made of sterner stuff than Sans. He could admire that.

 

“Sire, I come bearing a gift.” Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard, sauntered into the room, smirking. Behind her, the two Dogi stood, barely hiding a cage behind them. Sans couldn't see what was inside.

 

“Oh?” Sans's owner said primly, ceasing his petting. Sans bit back a frustrated whine, knowing better than to make noise. Papyrus preferred him silent and obedient, a good little pet.

 

“Yes. The leader of that pathetic little group of rebels' younger brother.”

 

Sans perked up a bit, curious. He didn't actually know who the leader of the resistance was.

 

The Dogi stepped to the sides--

 

And Sans gaped.

 

Standing in the cage, eye sockets dark and fists clenched despite the nasty crack spreading across the side of his skull, was a small skeleton that was undoubtedly this world's version of  _him_.

 

And he looked  _pissed_.

 

Boss laughed aloud. “Oh, look at him! Excellent, Undyne. He will be quite fun to break, I believe. Imagine the look on that Ash-Trash's face when he sees his precious little Sapphire begging for scraps at my feet!”

 

Sans gasped softly, the sound covered by Papyrus's chortling. The idea of this alternate version of him going through what he did... It was sickening, and he was terrified.

 

And still the other stood defiant.

 

Papyrus stood from bis throne, grabbing Sans's leash in a single fluid motion. Sans crawled after him with his head bowed, keeping slack in the leash. He wqas well-trained, after all, and knew the consequences of disobedince.

 

Still, something thrummed in his soul when he glanced furtitively up at the other.

 

“Heel.” Sans froze at the command, a foot or so from the other him. “Sit.” He obediently pushed himself up to rest on his heels, palms pressing into the ground in from of him.

 

Papyrus chuckled again, as if he'd heard some great joke. He kicked Sans so he was sprawled on the floor, still snickering, and Sans didn't make a sound, just pushed himself back into his previous position. “Just think, whelp. Soon you'll be just as pathetic, and just as obedient.”

 

“Never.” The other Sans hissed quietly, eyelights still completely gone. “You're a sick bastard.” And a glob of bright blue magic came from between those straight, shining white teeth, striking Papyrus directly on the cheekbone, and Sans's brain practically shut down because  _holy fucking shit this ballsy motherfucker just_ spat _in Papyrus's face_.

 

He could practically feel the anger radiating off of his sibling, and Sans cowered.

But Papyrus only laughed, reaching up with a gloved hand to casually wipe away the gob of spit. “Oh, this _will_ be fun. Captain, take him to my chambers. I'll want to start on my new project right away. And be sure to send Ash Trash a message informing him that any further attacks will result in the _very_ public, very _painful_ death of his little Sapphire.”

 

Undyne saluted and she and the Dogi dragged the cage off.

 

1234567890

 

Papyrus barely paid attention to his work the rest of the day, too lost in ideas on what do do with his new prize. At first, he'd just thought about breaking his mind into little tiny pieces and killing him once he grew bored, but then his mind started to wander as reports came in from loyal soldiers in other colonies and various parts of his own timeline. Being king was just meeting after meeting sometimes. It was boring. Still, he listened with one metaphorical ear and schemed with the other. He was still attempting to come up with a better, more elegant way to piss off that alternate him running the resistance. Angry enemies made mistakes, after all. And, bonus, it was amusing.

 

As Toriel from the Altertale colony finished her briefing on the current state of affairs (Content citizens, prisoners and the lower classes contained and treated as they deserved) he was somewhat startled out of his near-trance by his pet rubbing his head against Papyrus's boot affectionately.

 

Wait.

 

That... There was a glimmer of an idea there. It would be amusing, it would _definitely infuriate_ that chain-smoking weakling that dared to wear his face, and it would dishearten the rest of the rebels. All three boxes checked. He gave Sans a brief rub on the top of the skull, earning an almost purr-like noise, soft enough that he didn't bother chiding the smaller monster, and stood, grasping his leash and striding out of the room, his pet easily keeping pace despite crawling. He briefly bent down to attach a small device to Sans's collar, and it quickly expanded into several straps, gold like the accents on Sans's shorts and sneakers, and the spikes on his collar, making a harness of sorts which was attached to a small cart. He dumped the reports into it and then continued his trek for the storage room.

 

Sanses weren't worth much more than looking pretty and carrying your things, after all. And he needed to get some of his old things from back when this one was still throwing tantrums and fighting back.

 

He'd need them.

 

1234567890

 

Sans was tired. He'd figured out from the moment he was thrown inside this stupid cage that it was made of nullstone, which rendered his magic nearly unusable. When he got out of here (If he got out of here) Papy was going to kill him for being so careless (Papy was probably so, so worried....). He'd still thrown everything he had at the bars in a futile attempt at escape. Eventually, though, even _his_ stamina had run out, leaving him tired and panting on the floor of the cage.

 

He'd rested a while since then, and taken stock of his situation. He was in enemy territory, he was injured (though the cracks in his skull would be easily taken care of with a bit of Monster Food. He'd been left what looked like a couple bars of astro food by that bloodthirsty version of Undyne, but he daren't touch it in case it was poisoned), and he was trapped.

 

Not pretty. Not a good mix.

 

But he could handle it. He had to handle it.

 

The Resistance was nowhere near ready to break into Underfell. Nobody was coming for him, he would have to free himself.

 

It was a while before the shining, heavy wooden doors covered in opulent carvings of bloody battles swung open, and the beast wearing his big brother's face sauntered in. Sans could see the horrifying alternate version of himself, crawling after the dark Papyrus, a bright red leather leash attacked to the collar, and an odd-looking harness around his heavy black jacket. There was a small cart trailing behind him, as though he were some miniature version of a workhorse.

 

The sight was sickening, and he turned his attention back to the king, who very deliberately turned away and knelt to remove the cart from the harness. Once it was loose, he gave the other Sans a small shove, and Sans watched in morbid fascination as the small monster crawled off, though a doorway and into another room-- But not before shooting him a tentative glance.

 

Sans glared a burning hole into the dark Papyrus's boots, not bothering to even look at him. He'd show this fucker exactly the same amount of respect he was getting.

 

“Well aren't you sour.” This Not-Papyrus laughed, and his very voice was infuriating. Sans's eyes went dark. “It's actually kind of hilarious, you know. The resistance's secret weapon, the leader's own brother, here at my mercy. And to think! You're just a _Sans_!” There was a clear derogatory timbre to his voice at this point, and Sans bit back a growl. “And a poorly trained one, at that! Your lazyass brother didn't get it, did he?”

 

“Get _what_?” Sans was pretty sure Papy _got_ a lot more than this bastard ever could.

 

“Sanses are weak by design. They're not meant to wield a sword--” He sneered at the empty sheath still attached to Sans's armor. “They're meant to carry it for their owners.” He leaned down and forward, grinning. “Sanes aren't very useful, at least none of the ones _I've_ seen, and I've seen quite a few. They're there to look pretty and hold your belongings.”

 

“Fuck you!” Sans snapped, pushing himself to his feet in one fluid motion. This guy was something els- He squeaked in surprise as his soul suddenly turned bright blue and he went crashing back to the floor, abruptly unable to move.

 

“None of that. Your mongrel brother may allow you do do what you like without consequences, but you are under _my_ roof now. You will follow my rules, or you will be punished. It is as simple as that.”

 

Sans growled. The not Papyrus glared, unlocking the cage and pulling him out with the magic around his soul. If he weren't Blue he could attack... But hew was Blue, so that was a bust.

 

“Rule number one. You will obey my commands. Number two, you will not speak unless spoken to. Two simple rules.”

 

Sans rolled his eyes. “Yeah right.”

 

The glare became a snarl and Sans was suddenly thrown into the air and slammed against a wall, feet hanging several feet above the floor. Dazed from the hit, he did his best to regather his bearings as the evil version of his brother came close and did... something... yanking off his bandanna... replacing it with...? He yelped as the cold metal closed around his cervical vertebrae and he suddenly couldn't feel his magic. At all. Magic suppressors were awful, awful things, and he already felt ill and somewhat numb.

 

Several sharp bones impaled him, slotting between his bones painfully and pinning him to the wall, incapable of moving. Sans winced.

 

“You will learn to obey, _Sapphire_. Eventually.” The callous, cruel version of his brother mocked, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the room the other Sans had entered.

 

1234567890

 

Sans's part of the bedroom was clean and organized, because Boss got angry if he made a mess. When his owner walked in, he was amusing himself by batting a plush rabbit back and forth between his hands. Not exactly the most stimulating of games, but a decent distraction from thoughts he shouldn't be thinking.

 

Sans's corner of Papyrus's bedroom consisted of about five square feet of space, marked off by a large red throw rug. A small mattress in an elegantly carved wooden box with several colorful blankets piled on was against the wall, and beside it was a small open chest filled with various other plushes, balls, and similar toys, simple amusements for a simple minded animal. Sans _wasn't_ simple minded, but with a lack of other stimuli he made do. Boss took a moment to pat him on the head and praise him for his behavior that day, offering a chocolate drop. Sans happily removed the treat from between Papyrus's fingers with his teeth and nuzzled his hand before the King stood and settled into his bed. Sans swallowed the candy and used his mouth to toss the rabbit back into the toy chest, knowing better than to leave it lying around, and hopped up into his box, pulling one of the blankets over him using the same method and cuddling down into the others.

 

Normally these actions were routine, not worth mentioning. It was normal for him to behave like a common animal. He was a Sans. That was what he was there for.

 

That other him, though... No, he really shouldn't dwell. It had nothing to do with him. He shouldn't concern himself with matters outside of his control. It was a fast track to punishment. It didn't matter to Sans that the blue Sans was so different. He had probably been trained differently, that was all. The King would take care of it, and he'd probably be dead soon. That was fine.

 

Everything was fine.

 

Soon the rebellion would be over, and Sans could go back to his routine and be a good pet without all these dangerous wonderings and curiosities to get him into trouble.

 


	2. Sure Gets Dark Before the Light of Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus and Undyne have a chat, and Sans thinks about how he got here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exposition, exposition~

Papyrus slid Undyne a plate of bacon, grinning fondly as she savagely attacked it. She was his mentor, and probably his closest friend. He knew for a fact that if she had had any desire to be Queen, he'd have never stood a chance against her, and neither would Asgore. But Undyne utterly disposed politics and paperwork, while Papyrus relished both. She was content to be the hammer he wielded against his foes, while he took care of running things. 

 

Some scrambled eggs were spooned into a bowl and set on the floor, and Sans eagerly went at them. He'd been behaving so well lately. Papyrus had been worried that his pet would take cues from the other Sans and start acting out again, but he still seemed content to get a few scratches and live like the little animal he was. It was actually kind of cute.

 

"I've sent that bandanna along with your warning to the rebels.” She said between bites of bacon. “It's up to them if they heed it. They should find it later today.” The savage grin she was wearing prompted him to ask exactly how she'd done it. “I maaaaaaay have tortured one of our prisoners to near dust and had one of the dogs dump him along with that scarf and our letter in the middle of that weird-ass Snowdin. The best healers we have wouldn't be able to save his ass, and I think the rebels will get the message loud and clear.”

 

“And _that_ , my dear, is why I leave those matters to you.”

 

Undyne preened.

 

“I do wish you could stay here for the day, it's been quite a while since we've had a chance to catch up like this.” Papyrus sighed. “Unfortunately, I need you on the front lines; That's where you work best.”

 

“No problem, _sire_.” Undyne grinned back, just a little bit of playfulness in her tone. Most other monsters wouldn't be able to recognize it. “Those rebel punks don't stand a chance.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“So did you have fun with your gift last night, Papyrus?” Only Undyne could get away with such informality, and only in private, as they were.

 

“No, actually.” She looked startled, and he mentally awarded himself a point. “I decided that, since that Ash Trash failed so badly at teaching the creature his proper place, I'd take it upon myself.”

 

Undyne burst into loud laughter, and impossibly wide grin on her face. “Oh, that'll sure piss 'em off!”

 

“Imagine the morale drop in those whelps, seeing their secret weapon helpless and being dragged around on a literal short leash.”

 

“Oh, that's too perfect.”

 

Papyrus grinned smugly. “I thought so, as well.”

 

Sans nudge his leg, and Papyrus glanced down to see his pet sitting at his feet, empty bowl clenched between his teeth. “Are you asking for more, Sans?” The small monster nodded, big red pupils pleading. “Oh, I suppose.” Papyrus bent down and took the bowl, refilled it, and set it back down.

 

Undyne grinned across the table. “I know I've said it before, but he's actually kind of cute.”

 

“He's mine.”

 

“Oh, I know.” Undyne laughed. “And I think I'm one of the few people who even remember what he _used_ to be like.”

 

1234567890

 

Under the table, Sans flinched slightly. He looked up from his bowl, frowning slightly in Undyne's direction. As a general rule, people didn't talk about how he was before Papyrus had properly trained him. He barely remembered, himself. He didn't like thinking about it.

 

But as a rule, Undyne _broke_ the rules. She was rude to Boss, she generally did whatever she wanted, and she rarely faced consequences for her actions.

 

It wasn't his place to complain, but he didn't like it.

 

“Yes, yes. But that's far behind us, and I know for a fact that talking about it distresses my pet, and I don't have time for that today.”

 

Sans made a near-inaudible pleased sound and nuzzled Papyrus's leg briefly before turning back to his breakfast. This was why he loved his owner.

 

1234567890

 

Sans was... not doing so well. He hadn't slept, because he was too uncomfortable, too sore, too tired, too afraid... He'd kept going over his actions the day before in his head, with little else to do since he was pinned to the wall like some macabre statue.

 

He could only conclude it was temporary insanity that had led him to _engage_ the alternate Undyne when he'd seen her patrolling in New Home. He'd been on a supply run, a simple mission to find food for the resistance, because they had almost no resources.

 

Underswap had become a nightmare overnight when these beastly, violent monsters came. And most of the Underground had given in after the death of Queen Toriel and her estranged husband. Some even swore fealty to the _new king_. And for those that didn't, things suddenly became much harder. All of the money, the food, the goods, they were funneled upwards, away from the people who were creating them and to their new overlords.

 

Underfell was sickeningly beautiful. Especially this gaudy castle. This room alone was filled with gold and treasures, beautiful art and expensive furniture. In contrast, after the months of being under the thumb of this tyrant, Underswap was a dirty, damaged world. The occupying forces destroyed perfectly good buildings because they _could_ , then built large-scale _accommodation_ for the _lower classes_ , where the people of his world were packed together like sardines in one town and were told to either work, or die. Those that swore fealty were made citizens on the same level as Underfell monsters, but loyalty oaths were binding on one's soul-- If you took one and didn't mean it, you would die. If you took one and went back on it, you would die.

 

Life as a second-class citizen wasn't _technically_ slavery. At the end of the day, you were thrown a pittance of gold so you could feed yourself and possibly your family, if you were extremely lucky. But it was nowhere near the cost of living, and it definitely didn't cover the amount of work you were expected to put in to earn it. And if you didn't work, you were either killed outright or left to starve. The only ones who were spared the 'Work or Die' circumstances were children under the age of eight, who were given ration cards that could be exchanged by their parents for just enough to feed a child. But once they turned eight, they were expected to do _actual_ work.

 

And that wasn't even counting the rumors of people who were simply _taken_ from their homes and _pressed into service_ in Underfell. Now that wasn't even pretending to be anything other than slavery. If you were unlucky enough to be chosen for that, you'd be ripped from your family and put to work who knew where in Underfell, with no chance of ever going home.

 

It was all so very reminiscent of those human history textbooks Undyne sometimes had shown him, about the 'Holocaust'. And it made Sans feel ill.

 

It had utterly shocked him when, rather than bow to the authority of the other Papyrus, Papy had started a resistance. But he'd done his absolute best to help. He'd discarded his battle body and action figures, and his innocence along with them, he'd taken training more seriously than ever before,and he'd become a huge asset to their little group of fighters because of his rock hard will and magic skill.

 

They'd started to call him Sapphire. Both friends... and enemies.

 

And then, he'd seen her. That bloodthirsty psycho wearing his friend's face.

 

It had to have been temporary insanity.

 

He'd though, if he could kill her, take her out, it would massivley tip the scales in their favor. And it would've.

 

But she'd known he was there. He'd thought she hadn't seen him, but she had.

 

And then it was the fight of his life.

 

He'd thought she was going to kill him.

 

But she'd dragged him straight to _him_. The evil beastly version of his precious brother.

 

And now here he was, wearing a nullstone collar and chained to a wall, wrists shackled and armor destroyed, damaged by all of the bones that had been pinning him to the wall the night before. He'd tried pretty much everything, but with his magic completely cut off there was nothing he could do. The chain attached to the collar was short, barely giving him enough room to lie down. He was sure the reason something like this existed was for the other Sans, the one that wore a collar and crawled at the feet of his brother like a beaten puppy. But now it was being used on him, most likely for the sheer convenience.

 

Sans was lying on his side, trying to gather some of his strength back. It wasn't easy. Despite the more comfortable position, he was still in pain, his bones sore from hanging the night before, and the cracks on his skull aching. Not to mention the stupidity of sleeping in the heart of enemy territory.

 

He was wishing he had eaten those astro food bars, though. The villain Papyrus had taken them with him, so even if he could've reached them they weren't there _to_ reach. He already hadn't eaten in a couple of days-- Food, especially healing Monster Food, was difficult to come by, and generally they made sure the younger members of the resistance were able to eat first. Monster Food was typically saved for emergencies.

 

But there was nothing he could do about it.

 

Sans cursed himself for the millionth time today.

 

He was startled out of his musings when the garishly beautiful doors opened, and a familiar woman entered the room.

 

_Muffet?!_

 

But no, on second glance, it wasn't Muffet. At least, not Papy's girlfriend. This Muffet lacked her glasses, and Muffie was safe at home with Papy. But it was clearly _a_ Muffet, and she was carrying a basket in one of her arms. It made Sans wonder how many worlds this Papyrus had crushed under his heeled boot.

 

The Muffet had her hair down instead of in pigtails, and it was much longer than Muffie's was, almost coming to her waist. She was wearing a simple black dress with red accents, and a red headband holding her hair back. Her feet were bare. She actually looked rather... content.   
  


“Good afternoon.” This other Muffet said in a level tone, her six eyes half-lidded. “I have been instructed to ensure you are clean and presentable. And no, don't even ask, I will not aid you. I have been given leave to use force if you wish to make my job more difficult.” She shot him a stern glance.

 

Sans stared at her for a moment. He could hardly overpower her without his magic, and now he could see similar clothes to hers in the basket. His armor was punched full of holes, as was the shirt and pants underneath. There was no chance of escape, he'd never get far without magic, so he just shrugged.

 

An hour later, he'd been dragged in and out of the King's bathroom, Muffet (to his embarrassment) quickly and efficiently stripping him down and scrubbing his bare bones until they shined, thankfully being careful with the cracks in his skull. She'd replaced his shackles with a more comfortable pair, after getting him into a black shirt with red accents very similar to her ownd dress, then matching pants. While they'd been in there, it seemed somebody else had come in and removed the cage he'd been brought in, and repaired the wall where he'd been pinned. She confiscated all of his clothes, down to his gloves and sword sheath. She'd put him back onto the chain. And then she'd given him a smile that was more than a little pitying, and definitely grateful.

 

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She said as she piled his belongings in her basket.

 

Sans frowned. “Muffet... Do you... like it here?”

 

The spider woman froze for a moment, then looked over and shrugged, “It is what it is, dearie. It was hard, at first, but my children are well-fed and happy, and what more could I ask for?” She headed towards the door. “The King will be taking his meal in his chambers tonight. I'd recommend you get some rest. He will be roughly three hours.”

 

And with that, she was gone.

 


	3. Is anybody there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus leaves.

Sans had somehow managed to fall asleep in between when Muffet left and the doors swung open to admit the evil Papyrus and the collared Sans. So Sans woke with a start when the extravagant doors crashed against the wall and he stormed in, the other Sans at his heels and frantically crawling to keep up. Sans had to avert his eyes from the sight. Was the other even capable of rational thought? Was he even sentient anymore?

 

To Sans's surprise, they continued right past him, the Not-Papyrus stopping only long enough to flick off the lights, plunging the room into darkness, before disappearing into what was presumably his bedroom. He was almost offeneded. Then again, no attention from that psycho was good attention, as far as Sans was concerned.

 

With nothing better to do, Sans rolled over so he was facing the wall, and went back to sleep.

 

1234567890

 

The next morning, Papyrus began packing. There had been a riot in Altertale, and while most of the perpetrators ha been captured, somebody needed to track down the rest of them and help Deputy Toriel with damage control. Couldn't have the peasants thinking above themselves, after all.

 

Unfortunately, that meant he was going to have to be away from home for at least a couple of days.

 

Sans nudged his leg with his forehead, and Papyrus glanced down. “What?”

 

A confused head tilt, and a point to his bag.

 

Papyrus rolled his eyes. “Yes, I'm leaving for a few days. After breakfast.”

 

He pointed at himself, pupils large and pleading.

 

“No, you don't get to come. It will be dangerous. And I don't want you in the way.”

 

Sans deflated, looking so dejected that Papyrus sighed. “I'll play fetch with you when I get back, alright?” Sans perked up instantly, and he smirked. Just the right conditioning. Of course, it didn't matter if he actually followed through on his word; Sans would probably spend the next few days daydreaming about playing with him, and it wasn't like he would _complain_ if Papyrus didn't bother actually playing with him. He knelt down so he could look his pet in the eye, smiling thinly. “Now you remember the rules for when Master is gone, right?”

 

Sans nodded eagerly.

 

“I also want you to stay out of grabbing distance of the rebel. I wouldn't put it past him to try and hurt you.”

 

Another eager nod. Papyrus rewarded him with a little pat. “Good boy. Now go play while I finish packing.”

 

Sans rushed off to his part of the room (and unsurprisingly clambered into his bed instead of playing with any of his toys), and Papyrus turned back to his bag. He had a bit of a plan for the rebel, to give him something of his own to look forward to for when he came back.

 

From what he understood, the rebels weren't exactly well-supplied and by this point that Ash-Trash's Sans was on his third day here with no food. He was thinking that he could get the supposedly-strong-willed monster to crack and beg for mercy without lifting a finger.

 

Starvation did that to monsters.

 

He'd already catered breakfast to his living room, where the other Sans was tethered; It should be here--

 

A bell rang, and Miss Muffet's voice singsonged, “Breakfast, my liege!”

 

– Right about now. Papyrus quickly pulled his gloves on and swept out of his bedroom, and, with a quick command, Sans trotting at his heels.

 

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Sans woke up when Muffet entered with a cart covered in platters and dishes, and began to set up the large, delicate oaken table with heaps of food the likes of which he hadn't seen since before the coup. His soul growled softly with hunger and he glared down at the traitorous ball of magic. He was not going to lower himself to cracking and asking for some. Odds were high he'd be expected to beg. Better to just wait it out.

 

Still, the scent of pancakes and honey made him miss Papy, and he curled around himself. Did Papy even know he was still alive?

 

The alternate versions of his brother and himself re-entered the living area and the villainous Papyrus seated himself at the table. The endlessly terrifying other Sans sat at his feet, perfectly still, in a very... doglike position.

 

Once again, the evil version of his brother didn't say a word to him, though he did make eye contact as he took a large bite of what looked like an omelet. Sans grit his teeth, resisting the urge to flip him the bird.

 

 _If I ignore him, he'll get bored_.

 

But... It was the other Sans, who hadn't moved an inch, that he couldn't take his eye sockets off of. It was like watching a car crash, he couldn't look away, but he didn't want to watch.

 

The dark Papyrus-- He really was going to have to think of something better to call this asshole, he _really_ didn't like referring to him by the same name as his older brother-- reached down with a rasher of bacon and hand-fed it to the other Sans, who positively _beamed_ at the taller monster.

 

This continued for a while, with the other Papyrus (Fell, he'd call him Fell because Papy said this timeline was called Underfell. Not really creative, but removed from Papy's name.) eating calmly, occasionally stopping to hand-feed something to the other Sans. He kept eye contact with Sans the entire time, smirking.

 

It was only after what felt like a good twenty minutes that Fell spoke. “Do you want some, little Sapphire?” He chuckled softly. “I know your hands are bound, but I'd be happy to help you eat in the manner you _should_ , if you ask _nicely_.” Sans got the unspoken message when Fell glanced down at the monster lounging at his feet. If he begged, this fucker would feed him just like he'd been doing to the other one. Like a common, non-anthropomorphic dog.

 

Fuck that.

 

“I'm fine.” Sans bit out irritably. The other monster laughed softly.

 

“Suit yourself, my dear.”

 

The rest of the meal went on in silence, with Sans seething and Fell silently gloating. Stars, this guy was infuriating.

 

Fell stood, patted the other Sans on the head, and muttered something to him. Then he walked into the bedroom and left with a bag over his shoulder.

 

And just like that, he was gone, leaving two Sanses alone in the room.

 

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Sans thought briefly about jumping onto the chair to sneak a bit more breakfast before Miss Muffet came in, then decided the rebel him might tattle, and an extra pancake wasn't worth one of Miss Muffet's punishments. He wasn't supposed to be one the furniture. And Miss Muffet could be _mean_ if she put her mind to it.

 

So no extra pancake. That was okay. He could wait for dinner.

 

He heard the other him grumble some curse words under his breath and frowned slightly. He hadn't really been moved since he got there, had he? He must be bored.

 

Maybe he would play with Sans?

 

Of course, there was Papyrus's stern warning to keep out of reach of the other Sans to worry about, but Sans could easily follow all of the rules and still ask the other to play with him.

 

Besides, just because his owner had said he would spend time with him when he got back didn't mean he actually would, and Sans was feeling a bit neglected. Boss didn't spend a lot of time paying attention to him in the middle of a coup.

 

So, plan set, Sans crawled back into the bedroom, nudging the door open with his head. Just because Boss wasn't around didn't mean he could act like a _person_ , after all. He dug through his toy box until he retrieved a worn tennis ball and headed back out.

 

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The other Sans had left, wandering off into the bedroom. Sans had honestly been hoping he would get up and walk on two legs, that he would stop acting like an animal once his brother was gone. It would've been a high point towards him actually being sentient. But he hadn't.

 

To Sans's eternal confusion, the other returned with a tennis ball in his mouth, and stopped a short distance away. Just out of his range of motion, actually.

 

The other monster dropped the ball and batted it in Sans's direction. Sans stared at it uncomprehendingly as it rolled to a stop next to his bare femur. A glance at the other showed an eager, expectant expression.

 

“What do you want?”

 

The other Sans frowned. And Sans wondered, had he understood that?

 

Hesitantly, Sans lifted the ball in one hand. “Why did you give this to me?”

 

That. That was definitely a shrug.

 

“Do you understand me?”

 

A nod.

 

Sans dropped the ball. It bounced and rolled out of his reach. The other Sans pounced on it and nudged it back over.

 

Abruptly, Sans understood what he wanted.

 

“Why... Are you capable of thinking, of making your own decisions?” It was blunt, but he had to know.

 

The other monster stared at him for an uncomfortably long amount of time, and just as he was about to write it off as a wash, he nodded jerkily, then shook his head frantically. He then pointed at the ball.

 

So he could think, but wasn't able to make his own decisions... That didn't make sense. Unless...

 

“You brother makes all your decisions?”

 

Another hesitant nod.

 

Okay, so he was going to have to word things carefully.

 

“Can you talk?”

 

A shake of the head.

 

“Are you _capable_ of talking?”

 

A nod. Okay, so he was forbidden from speaking.

 

Another point at the ball, more insistent.

 

“Why do you let him treat you like this?”

 

Red pupils stared at him in a disturbingly detached way. The red Sans pointed at the ball once again.

 

With a heavy sigh, Sans threw it across the room, watching in morbid fascination as the other chased it on all fours. He doubted he would get anything else out of the other Sans today.

 


	4. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Afternoon.

Sans played fetch with the other version of him for a while, trying not to think about the situation he was in. It was a repetitive activity, one he could zone out during. The sharp toothed version of him would bring back the ball and roll it over, and he would pick it up in one of his bound hands and throw it. Rinse and repeat. After some time, the other seemed to get bored or tired and took the ball back to the bedroom. He returned a few moments later and headed over to a corner where Sans only now noticed a pair of polished silver bowls, and bent over one. The soft sounds of water sloshing reached him, and Sans tried to block it out.

 

It was disgusting, that somebody could treat their own sibling like an animal. To the point that he didn't even drop the facade when Fell was gone.

 

Once the other had his fill of water, he came back over and laid down on his front nearby Sans, pillowing his head on his wrists.

 

Sans fidgeted as the other fell into an easy sleep. He didn't want to wake him, but Sans was feeling nervous and awkward, and the sudden lack of people was allowing his mind to wander.

 

He was afraid.

 

He was sure that the only reason he was currently alive was to be held over Papy's head. But he was expecting to have been interrogated by now. To have been tortured for information on where their base was.

 

It had been what, three days? And the worst that had been done was a lack of food.

 

Sans was worried about the other shoe dropping.

 

And then there was this alternate version of him...

 

He had no idea how to help him, but he knew he'd never forgive himself if he didn't try.

 

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Papyrus was exhausted.

 

This was nothing new, running a resistance against a much stronger foe on non-equal ground was hardly a simple task.

 

Add to that his brother being kidnapped, and the current situation in Altertale, and he just didn't know what to do. He had a plethora of people counting on him to make the right choices to get them out of this in one piece, but--

 

There were no right answers.

 

Undyne stood a little ways away, monitoring the machine that formerly had occupied Papy's basement. They'd managed to get it up and running, but they'd been unable to crack the firewalls around Underfell's code. The only other universe they currently had access to was Altertale.

 

There was a much smaller resistance in Altertale, barely fifty monsters strong. He and Mettaton from that world had been working on a plan together to try and infiltrate the Underfell soldiers, but he;d just gotten word that the members of the Altertale resistance had acted without direction, started a riot, and most of them were captured or dead. And so, he was sending in a small team to locate and bring the survivors here.

 

He was going along, of course, because he could hardly send his people on a mission he wouldn't be willing to go on himself.

 

Still, he was tired, and afraid. And he couldn't stop thinking about all the horrible things that could be happening to Sans...

 

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“Warn a guy next time!” Sans snapped, belatedly covering his eyes with his bound hands as Muffet stripped the other Sans right in front of him. She'd come sweeping in, and the other monster had hopped to his hands and knees and crawled over. Then she'd began taking his clothes off.

 

“He's filthy.” Muffet said calmly by way of explanation. “He missed his last bath because I was ill.” She lifted the pile of now shivering bones into her arms and swept into the bathroom.

 

Sans blinked at her quick departure.

 

 _What_? He remembered her scrubbing him down efficiently, practiced. So apparently she bathed that Sans like a common animal regularly? … Did she even know there was a person in there, or did she think he was as feral as the Annoying Cat?

 

He heard her cooing from the other room. “Such a good boy, Muffie's proud of you. I know you don't like this, dearie, you're such a good boy...” He shuddered. Stars, it sounded like she was praising a dog...

 

After a while the other Sans bounded out of the bathroom, dripping wet and still nude, with Muffet chasing him with a towel and another set of the same clothes he'd been wearing under that heavy, fur-lined jacket. “Sans, don't do this to me, dearie.”

 

The other monster cocked his head and stared up at her.

 

“You know exactly what I mean. I have to brush your teeth. You wouldn't want your master mad at us, would you?”

 

Instantly, the other went slack.

 

“That's right, dearie, come back. You're making a mess.”

 

Sans watched in more than a little bemusement as they disappeared again.

 

Just... what?

 

They way she was talking seemed to imply she was well aware he could think for himself; Why was she keeping up the charade?

 

Why was everyone he'd seen so far content to treat a living, thinking being as an animal? What the fuck was up with this world?

 

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After Miss Muffet had finished dressing him and brushing his teeth (bleh), Sans followed her back into the living room, where she piled his other clothes including his beloved jacket into a basket and slipped out of the room. He knew she'd be back after they were clean to feed him and return his jacket, so he wasn't all that worried about her abrupt departure.

 

He looked over at the other him, who looked back in confusion. He wasn't much fun, really. Sure, he'd played ball, but he couldn't throw very well because his wrists were tied, and he just seemed... Sad. Depressed. Sans wondered if he missed his own master.

 

Probably. Sans had only been away from Boss for a little while and he already missed him.

 


End file.
